


Day 2: Sarcastic / Sincere

by GemmaRose



Series: Ratchet Week [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Birthday Party, Gen, Surprise Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24371044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: The Ark is quiet this morning.Too quiet.
Relationships: Autobots & Ratchet (Transformers)
Series: Ratchet Week [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758271
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Day 2: Sarcastic / Sincere

Ratchet glowered at the energon dispenser, resolutely not checking his chrono. He’d made sure the medbay was fully and properly clean before going to berth last night, and there were no overnight patients at the moment, which meant First Aid wouldn’t complain about being left in medbay for a few extra minutes if Ratchet happened to be running late. The dispenser finally spat out his fuel, and with the cube warm in his hand Ratchet turned to look for an open seat. There were more than usual, but it was far too early to devote any part of his sluggishly booting processor to something other than getting fuel in his tanks without interruption.

As his systems came online though, Ratchet looked around the room with a more critical optic. Something was up, it was never this quiet in the morning. None of the usual suspects were even present, and he knew full well Optimus never sent out scouts this early, or responded to a potential Decepticon incident without alerting the medical staff. He finished his fuel quickly, tossing the empty cube in the trash on the way out, and headed straight for the medbay. Was it his imagination, or were the halls emptier than usual? There were always third shift mechs loitering around, chatting with their friends. Usually some first-shift ones as well, dawdling on their way to work. He saw notably fewer than usual today, and combined with the unnaturally quiet mess hall it had him on edge.

Probably nothing, he tried to assure himself, but millions of years of war left the words ringing hollow. He would get to the medbay and comm Optimus for answers, he decided after a moment of thought. It was probably nothing, but asking never hurt anyone. He tapped the operation panel for the door next to the medbay proper, and frowned when it opened onto darkness. First Aid always left the lights on. The lights didn’t come on when he stepped inside, the door shutting to plunge him into complete darkness. The room was distinctly warmer than it should be. Stuffy, like the vents weren’t working properly. Had some circuit popped during the night shift and First Aid didn’t notice it yet?

The lights flicked on before he even reached for the manual panel, illuminating a mess of colours that had no business in his office, and Ratchet swung reflexively at the hulking frame to his left, the crack of his fist against transparasteel audible even amidst the sudden cacophony of voices and small concussive charges. He reeled back for another swing, and froze as his visual cortex caught up to the sudden flood of input. Balloons, confetti still fluttering down from where the cannons had fired it up into the air, his office packed full of- well, most of the mechs who’d been missing from the mess hall.

“I told them this was a bad idea.” First Aid said from his perch on the edge of Ratchet’s desk, the light behind his visor sliding meaningfully towards Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, who stood in the middle of the chaos holding an oilcake decorated in human style.

“Happy forgeday, Ratchet.” Optimus said, gently pushing Ratchet’s fist down. “With reflexes like that, I don’t doubt you’ll live to see many more.”

“Uh, thanks Prime.” he said, suddenly very glad that he’d given Optimus’s windshield a scuff-resistant coating last time his leader was in for repairs. He hadn’t even left a mark.

“Before you get mad, this was Sideswipe’s idea.” Sunstreaker said quickly. His twin elbowed him in the side.

“Was not!” Sideswipe hissed, “You’re the one who asked him!”

“Asked me what?” Ratchet frowned, racking his memory files for what could’ve possibly convinced the twins that he would enjoy a surprise party. Which was what this was, now that he was looking. And in full-blown Earth style, too.

“Back when Blue and I were in to get our winter tires, remember?” Sunstreaker prodded. “It was just after Blue’s forgeday, and I asked what your favourite type of party was, and you said-”

“Surprise.” Ratchet groaned, hanging his helm and pinching his nasal ridge. “I was being sarcastic, you dipsticks.”

“Oh.” the twins looked at each other. Bumblebee facepalmed.

“But I guess, if you’ve put this much effort in...”

“Happy forgeday, mech.” Jazz clapped a hand on his shoulder with a broad grin. “How old are you now, anyways?”

“Depends. Are we counting the four million year dirt nap, or not?”

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to any not-logged-in readers, but due to an ex who refuses to leave me alone I have had to disable anon comments. Kudos are still open though, and if you want to scream (or would like me to write a fic for you) come check me out on Pillowfort! No account required to get my discord, and I'm always happy to chat. [[Link](https://www.pillowfort.social/GemmaRose)]


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